I know I've posted about how my baby hasn't been sleeping. First it was teething, then a head cold, then travel for the holidays and let me tell you she's all off-schedule. I feel bad for her, the poor thing is so congested she just doesn't want me to put her down, but as I'm holding her all night (Until 6am Sat night!) I can't help but getting a little whiny. I'm never going to get my thank you notes written! I'm so delirious I'll never be able to work on book 2! Then something happened. I got the call I've always known was possible, but somehow I managed to think would never happen. It was my good friend. He is sick. After a year and a half of remission, the cancer is back, in his brain. He's going to start radical treatment immediatley. He has a seven year old son. And all at once, I felt like a self-absorbed, ridiculous fool. Here I was wishing it away - the time I had with my baby, my family - when some people would give anything for the guarantee of time. And it gave me a whole new perspective. The thank you notes will eventually get written. And some of my funniest scenes in Lipstick came from the delerium after sleepless nights with Sam. So as I rocked Izzie to sleep last night I vowed a new New Years Resolution: No more trips to negative town. Remember perspective. Then she slept. Nine glorious hours.